DBZ Proverbs: Drawn
by Philotas
Summary: Fourth in the "Proverbs from The World" series. Vegeta plays hair-dresser with Bulma. Sort of.


**DRAWN**

Summary  
Fourth in the "Proverbs from The World" series. Vegeta plays hair-dresser with Bulma. Sort of.

Genre, couples and rating  
Humor/Romance – pre B/V, mention of B/Y – Rated PG for the one cuss word

Disclaimer and author's note  
Nothing belongs to me, except the plot (if you'll forgive the overstatement!). While this isn't the first I've written, it is probably in conception my oldest idea for a DBZ vignette. I'm a natural born slasher, but B/V is "da luv"! IMO it doesn't happen very often in mangas to find a canon couple quite so perfect. Toriyama-sama, praise be to you.

I wanted to thank the community for the great feedback I received on this "series", my love to all those who read and reviewed my stories!

* * *

"_Beauty draws with a single hair._" – Danish proverb

Pre-dinner television programming was worse than the morning's, Bulma realized with disappointment. She really needed to switch to reading when she took a break from work.

Crushing her half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray, she turned the tv off and wandered into the kitchen, contemplating the idea of getting a beer and turning the radio on for some music as she waited for the pizza delivery van to arrive. No guy on a motorbike could possibly ever deliver the amount of pizza she needed to feed her resident saiyan.

As if sensing her thoughts of dinner, Vegeta wandered into the kitchen almost at the same time as she, wearing only a pair of loose fitting training pants and a towel around his neck. His usually upswept hair was damp and partially falling over his shoulders, and his skin was still moist from the shower. As was his wont when he didn't require her to do something for him, he ignored her completely.

Bulma took a swig from her beer and covertly observed him as he poured himself a glass of orange juice. It amused her that he'd still use the glass even if he unfailingly drank the whole carton. She almost snickered as she thought that, if he were mute, he'd probably pass off as refined.

As Vegeta filled a second glass, a slight glow enveloped him and suddenly his hair stood on end again: apparently, he'd used ki to dry himself off once the wet skin and hair started to become uncomfortable. The weather was still not warm enought to go around dripping wet after all.

"It's so convenient" Bulma commented, breaking the silence.

"What?" he asked in clipped tones, after gulping down the content of the glass.

"Drying your hair like that" she elaborated. "Quick and convenient. I sure wish I could do it. What does it feel like, when you do that?"

The saiyan gave her an assessing look, as if evaluating whether she rated a response or not.

"Since you can't use ki at all, I do not think that describing the feeling would make you understand it" he finally replied in a condescending tone.

"Probably" she agreed good-naturedly, not rising to the obvious bait for one of their renown shouting matches.

Vegeta smirked around the third glass of orange juice. After he was done drinking, he moved to the sink to rinse it, then without any warning he filled it with water and dumped it uncerimoniously on her head. It was a large glass, and it soaked her hair quite thoroughly.

"What the fuck...?!" Bulma shrieked, caught by surprise by his inhumanly fast manoeuvre. "What the hell did you do that for?!"

"To satisfy your curiosity" he told her, faking an innocent look.

Bulma had almost no time to be afraid of his intentions when his calloused hand went to the back of her neck and his fingers dug in the wet hair there. A wonderful tingling warmth spread from the spot he was touching, making her want to sigh in languid pleasure.

"Wow" she couldn't help but say once his hand left her neck. "That's really amazing."

Checking from the tips up, Bulma could feel that her hair was completely dry. It took her a moment longer to realize that it was also back to its natural straight state, whereas it had been stylishly curled only second before. Her good spirits vanished.

When he saw that he'd achieved what had probably been his goal since the very start, Vegeta's smirk grew positively feral. Even if a part of her was alarmed by the flash of those pointier-than-human canines, she kept her scowl firmly in place and tapped her foot on the floor in impatience for good measure.

Bulma had long since understood that failing to stand her ground with the saiyan was more dangerous than deliberately provoking him. Vegeta despised weakness, therefore she couldn't show any.

Besides, she wasn't really sure she was scared of him anymore. Recently it almost felt as if their arguments, heated as they grew, were more like a ritualized interaction, or an experiment on Vegeta's part, and Bulma couldn't deny that a part of her enjoyed the liberation that came afterwards.

In fact, if she were completely honest with herself, Bulma would have to admit that after spending days and evenings in labs or at cocktail parties, forced to be unfailingly polite to susceptible clients and overworked collegues, arguing with Vegeta was better than therapy.

"You ruined my hairdo, you good for nothing prince of all freeloaders" she complained rudely, throwing him a dirty look.

It was Vegeta's turn to ignore the bait: shrugging with a bored look, he turned and walked towards the door.

"It seems I've made you two favours instead of one, then" he tossed over his shoulder as he made his exit.

Bulma's breath hitched in surprise. Had he just told her that he preferred her natural look?! Unlikely as it sounded, she couldn't shake the feeling that he'd actually meant to compliment her natural hair over any improvement she might try. Why would he have retreated so quickly, otherwise?

Checking her reflection in the shiny fridge door, Bulma smiled and chuckled, privately making fun of herself for feeling like a schoolgirl at her first flirt.

The following evening, on her date with Yamcha, Bulma explained her lack of curls by claiming that they were going out of fashion. Her boyfriend looked puzzled at the notion, and objected that he'd heard exactly the opposite. Bulma didn't ask him where he'd heard, or from whom. She just shrugged with a carefree smile and did not say that she was taking advice from one proud, arrogant, handsome saiyan prince. Who would believe her anyway?


End file.
